


The Sun Will Shine

by Penthos



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: F/M, M/M, basically theres sun and sea and happiness, thats a really good description right there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:45:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penthos/pseuds/Penthos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Les Amis drag a reluctant Enjolras on holiday. But maybe a holiday is just what they all need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Departure

'No.'

'Oh come on Enjolras, don't be so boring.'

'Courf, I have work to do. Important work. That needs to be finished because, and I return to my second point, it is important.'

Courfeyrac frowned at him from where he was hanging upside down off the bed.

'It'll be fun, I promise. You can relax, just for a few days, read some books that you've been meaning to read,' Courfeyrac eyed the sizeable mountain next to Enjolras' bed, 'And you can get a tan! I bet you'd look really good with a tan.'

Enjolras swivelled in his chair to glare at him. 

'My point is,' Courfeyrac rolled backwards and flopped onto the floor, before assuming a sitting position, 'You're coming on holiday with us because you need a break. Even Combeferre agrees with me.' 

Enjolras pursed his lips. On one hand, he had a shitload of essays to write. On the other hand, he had about five weeks to write them, and however much he would try to deny it, a few days holiday would come as a welcome break.

'Fine,' Courfeyrac punched the air, 'But on one condition. You and Jehan don't go all public-displays-of-affection at the airport again and get us kicked out and miss our flight.'

Courfeyrac had the grace to look ashamed.

'Cross my heart.' 

Enjolras smiled tiredly and shut his laptop.

'When are we leaving?'

Courfeyrac was already at the door, having bounded away with the biggest grin on his face. He checked his purple watch.

'Uh, about four hours? We're meeting at Ferre's in two.' He blew a kiss and left, leaving Enjolras to stare after him and try not to have a panic attack.

\--

He was packed and ready in an hour and a half, giving him half an hour to go over his checklist and make sure he hadn't left anything. He'd packed adequate summer clothes, meaning four similar t-shirts, two plain button-ups, jeans, three pairs of capri pants, and a pair of shorts he'd found gathering dust at the back of his closet. A jumper shoved on top, flip-flops and converse, swimming trunks, underwear, and pyjamas and he hoped that was enough. He'd also packed three bottles of sun lotion, for Joly's sake more than his own because Joly didn't tan in the sun, but instead he lobstered badly and on more than one occasion had he fallen asleep and woken up with very unfortunate burn lines. Bahorel still had the photos.

Piling everything else in his backpack, chargers, books and whatever he thought he'd need, he forced it shut and grabbed his pretty much trademark red hoodie. By then it had been about an hour and three quarters, so he lugged the suitcase down the stairs, not really caring about scraping the walls, and did one last check at the bottom, before running back up to turn things off and lock up. He looked at his laptop wistfully, in half a mind to take it, but instead he resisted the urge, knowing how unimpressed Combeferre would be if he took it. And then finally, he was on his way.

\--

'HAS ANYONE SEEN MY HAT?' Squawked Joly as soon as Enjolras opened Combeferre's apartment door, viewing the catastrophic scene in front of him with dismay. Combeferre squeezed through the carnage to him.

'Glad you're coming. We're leaving in half an hour, Courfeyrac just needs to repack and we're still waiting for Grantaire.' Enjolras huffed at that, but Combeferre was already gone, trying to help Bossuet close his suitcase.

Courfeyrac seemed to be struggling with the same problem, even though what looked like half the contents of his suitcase were still strewn around him. Enjolras had to blink a few times because all of Courfeyrac's clothes were neon or so vividly patterned Enjolras wondered if he'd go blind if he looked at them for too long. It was like a rave club threw up. Jehan was sitting on his own suitcase watching calmly and threading daisies through his combat boot laces.

Leaving Courfeyrac to his woes ("No, you don't understand, I _need_ these hotpants, they're a part of my _soul_."), he went to find Combeferre again when the door opened. Grantaire was standing there holding a leather suitcase that looked about five hundred years old and was bulging worryingly at the seams. He grinned at Enjolras and stumbled in, trying to avoid the bags scattered everywhere, even though that was about as difficult as avoiding cars on a motor way.

He was going to say something but then Combeferre was in front of him and suddenly he was shouting for silence.

'Please can you all shut up for a moment.' The voices died down, except for the occasional whimper from Courfeyrac as he continued his battle with his suitcase, 'We're leaving in ten minutes. Can you please collect all your bags, don't leave anything behind,' He looked at Courfeyrac, 'And meet outside to get in the car.'

'How are we getting there?' Joly asked.

'Cosette's dad is driving us, so be polite.'

'Yeah, cause he's an ex-convict.' Someone mumbled, presumably Bahorel, who was chuckling at his own joke until Cosette hit him.

'Anyway, we need to be relativley quick, so lets go,' He turned to Enjolras, and in a quieter voice added, 'Honestly, it's like looking after children.' He agreed, but then they were caught up in even more chaos as people forced their way through the crowd and out of the apartment.

Enjolras was second last, following Courfeyrac who was thanking Jehan profusely for letting him use put some of his things in his suitcase, and he switched off the lights as he left. 

Finally they were all mish-mashed onto the pavement outside, complaining about the cold because even though it was December most of them were dressed in summer clothes. Bahorel wasn't even wearing a shirt under his jacket. When Cosette's dad arrived in more of a van than a car, they all forced themselves in, Combeferre doing a head count from the passenger seat, and making sure no one was left behind or being crushed by a bag. The air buzzing slightly, they set off.

\--

If Combeferre's apartment had been chaotic, it was nothing compared to the airport. It was crowded, there were delays, Bossuet was hungry, and Eponine needed the toilet, and the queue was taking ages. When Enjolras thought he couldn't stand it any longer, suddenly they were at the front, and he approached to check in his bag and get his boarding pass. It took another fifteen minutes to get everyone else through, but everyone laughed at the flight attendees face when she weighed Courfeyrac's bag and saw that it was three grams less than the maximum.

Then they were through, and Eponine could go to the toilet, Bossuet went to get some food with Joly, and Bahorel wandered off to buy some new headphones, leaving the rest of them to collapse on the benches, exhausted already.

'This is fun, then.' Grantaire said, and they all laughed. Then they lapsed into tired silence, and eventually the others came back, Bossuet carrying an enormous baguette which he shared with everyone, and they waited some more. And waited, and waited and waited. They all sat up straight when they heard their flight announced, the tinny voice over the speakers making them woop.

_Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please. Could passengers boarding the three o' clock plane to Crete please make their way to Gate Five. Thank you._

They leapt up, filled with a sudden energy that even Enjolras felt, and grabbed their bags, or hauled in Bahorel's case because his looked like he'd put bricks in it or something (knowing him, he probably had). They practically ran to the Gate, Joly bringing up the rear clutching his straw hat to his head.

They skidded to a halt, out of breath but at the front of the line, and the flight attendant at the desk eyed them suspiciously. 

'Your boarding passes and passports please.' He said in a bored voice, and one by one they filed through. The aeroplane smell filled the corridor as they went through, laughing and joking and eventually running towards the plane when they saw the doors. The air hostess looked frankly alarmed as she watched them approach like a herd of wildebeest, and pointed them to their seats probably hoping they weren't going to be too rowdy. Enjolras couldn't count on it.

Once bags were stowed away above them they buckled themselves in, Enjolras in the middle of Combeferre, in the aisle seat, and Grantaire by the window. Feuilly, Bahorel and Eponine were behind them, Joly, Bossuet and Courfeyrac in front of them, and Jehan, Marius and Cosette to the left. 

He couldn't help the grin that spread on his face as he listened to his friends surrounding him, the excitement bubbling inside him as well. Maybe a holiday was just what he needed.


	2. Plane rides

Enjolras thought he knew what hell was. He'd experienced a levels, surely that was the worst thing in existence? He was wrong. Hell was being stuck on a plane with your eleven closest friends for two hours. After an hour and a half he was seething, and the only thing keeping him sane was Combeferre next to him. He wondered how he'd survive without him. On his other side, Grantaire was asleep or passed out, no one knew, so at least he wasn't trouble. 

The excitement had long since died down, probably the fault of Bahorel and Courfeyrac who were the source of his anger. For nearly half an hour, Bahorel and Courfeyrac had been throwing notes at each other, over Enjolras' head, like school girls. Every few throws one would land on him and Courfeyrac would lean over with a shit eating grin and grab it. That wasn't even the worst of it. The worst was their laughs. He didn't know what was written on the notes, and he didn't really want to, but it was like every single second someone behind or in front of him would burst into giggles. Annoying giggles. It was like surround sound giggles, and Courfeyrac had the strangest, most irritating laugh in the world; something like a cross between a hyena and a choking cat. Jehan thought it was endearing. Enjolras would beg to differ.

He was contemplating asking for ear plugs when suddenly the plane shook, bouncing up and down a little. Turbulence, he thought, but then he noticed the laughing had stopped. Furrowing his eyebrows he peered round the seat in front of him and caught a glimpse of Courfeyrac clutching his face, before he was being sick into an airbag. That was when all hell broke loose. Joly looked as if he was about to cry, and was stuck between wanting to help Courfeyrac and trying to get as far away from him as possible. Bahorel was shouting from behind him, trying to find out what was wrong, and Jehan was trying to get to Courfeyrac but thankfully Cosette was restraining him.

When he thought things couldn't get any worse, Joly started having an asthma attack from hyperventilating too much, and it took another few minutes to dig out his inhaler from his bag while Bossuet was convinced he was going to die, and Courfeyrac was still looking queasy. 

Eventually, the turbulence stopped, Courfeyrac stopped being sick and a little colour returned to Joly's face. Next to him, Grantaire was waking up, emerging from where he was half buried in his hat without even opening his eyes.

'Where're we?' He mumbled.

'Somewhere over Italy.'

'Wha' 's happenin'?'

Enjolras bit his tongue, and tried not to be annoyed.

'Courfeyrac was sick and Joly had a small panic attack. Everyone's fine now.'

Grantaire grunted and made to go back to sleep, but for some reason this angered Enjolras even more.

'Maybe if you'd paid attention you'd know.' He snapped and Grantaire turned to look at him, blinking in the light.

'I was asleep. How could I have paid attention in my sleep?'

'Well, you could've stayed awake and then you'd know where we are and what's happening to your friends.' He knew he was being unreasonable, but his nerves were on breaking point and Grantaire was next to him and was the one he took it out on. 

'Sorry, your highness. Would've thought you'd prefer me unconscious to the world.' He sneered halfheartedly but his eyes were already drooping closed again and Enjolras felt a sudden pang of guilt.

'No, I shouldn't have said that,' He mumbled, looking away, 'You can sleep if you want, I'm just stressed.'

For some reason, this made Grantaire grin.

'We're on holiday, Apollo. You're meant to relax.'

Enjolras blinked at the nickname, and then rubbed a hand over his face.

'Yeah, I know. Maybe,' He was cut off by a yawn and Grantaire chuckled, 'Maybe I'll sleep too.' It was becoming a more and more pleasurable idea, and already he felt himself slipping.

He saw Grantaire tuck himself back into his corner by the window, and then his eyes closed and he sank into sleep.

\--

'Enjolras. Enjolras we're here.' He moaned and turned away from the prodding finger. He was warm and comfortable, why did he have to move?

'Look out the window, we're here!' Someone poked his face and he moaned, trying to bury himself deeper into whatever he was curled up against. When he was poked, albeit gently, on the eye he opened them, mewling like a cat. 

For a moment, he was disorientated. Then he realised what he was lying on. His arms were wrapped around one of Grantaire's and he was pressed up against his shoulder. With a start, he leapt back, and Grantaire grinned sheepishly.

'I didn't want to wake you at first, you looked so peaceful.'

He didn't answer. He raised a hand to his face and felt creases from where he'd been lying on Grantaire's jacket. Then he realised Grantaire was still talking. 

'-out the window, we're here!' He was pointing at the sea, and Enjolras followed his hand and saw the islands, and then the coastline. He smiled.

The pilot spoke over the intercom, seat belts were tightened, (Joly made extra sure Bossuet's was) and then they were landing, bumping along the runway, all the while Courfeyrac cheering in front of him. 

His anger having dissipated, he was once again filled with excitement, the kind of excitement only brought by travel. The sky outside was a vivid blue and the sea was sparkling. 

It took twenty minutes to get off the plane and get through passport control, and then they were waiting for their bags. The most tense part of the journey. He'd seen a film once about someone taking the wrong suitcase and it had a bomb in it, and that had mentally scarred him. Also because he didn't want to lose all his clothes. 

So they waited for the bags to come round, Bahorel grabbing most of them and showing off by taking two at a time. Everyone got their bags, except Enjolras. He was waiting nervously by the belt, staring intensely at each bag, chewing his lips and tapping his foot, and only half listening to what his friends were saying.

'Who booked the rooms?'

'I did.' Courfeyrac said proudly.

'Did you book the right number?' That was Combeferre.

'Of course I did! Why do you always doubt me, Combeferre? You wound me. Look, I have the receipt on my phone, let me show you.' 

There was a pause, and Enjolras zoned out for a bit. Suddenly he saw his bag, and with relief spreading through him, he hauled it off the belt and dragged it over to his friends. He was thoroughly checking the labels when he heard a chorus of 'shotgun'.

He looked up, wondering what they had been dibsing on, and saw them all staring at him. 

'Wha-' He was cut off by Grantaire reappearing carrying a bottle of water. All eyes were flicking between them.

'What did I miss?' He asked, sitting on a suitcase. Bahorel started cackling.

'What's going on?' Enjolras asked, anger creeping back into his voice.

'Um,' Courfeyrac started. 'I may have accidentally booked the wrong number of rooms. Because I wasn't sure you were coming, so I only booked ten. So two people have to share, excluding Marius and Cosette. And we all shotgunned. So it's you and Grantaire.' He looked pretty mortified, but maybe because Enjolras was doing his patented death glare. 

'Can't we get another room?' He asked as calmly as possible.

Courfeyrac paled.

'They're full up, I only managed to get the last ten.'

Instead of shouting, he closed his eyes and took a zen breath. 

'Ok.' He said quietly. Then, 'Ok.' He looked at Grantaire. 'Are you okay with this?'

Grantaire swallowed and his cheeks were pink, but when he spoke his voice was steady.

'Yeah, I don't care.' Somewhere behind Feuilly Bahorel was wheezing. 

Enjolras looked back at Courfeyrac.

'Courfeyrac, if I accidentally murder Grantaire, it's entirely your fault.'

'Wow, thanks Enjolras,' Grantaire said and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Nice to see you care so much about me.' 

Enjolras gave him a withering look and the hand was gone. Without another word, he picked up his bags, and stalked off.

\--

They arrived at the hotel in relative silence, no one daring to talk to Enjolras except Combeferre. Once they were checked in, everyone departed to their respective rooms, and with white knuckles gripping his suitcase handle, Enjolras followed Grantaire to room 47.

The door opened, and all in all, it was a lovely room. There was a tv, a balcony with sunbeds and a beautiful view of the sea, the walls were white washed and it was all very grecian. They were so close to the sea they could practically taste the salt in the air. 

Grantaire stopped in front of him and sucked in a breath, causing him to crash into his suitcase.

'Um. It's a double bed.'

Enjolras peered around him, and sure enough, a luxurious white bed filled the middle of the room. His suitcase dropped.

'Listen, I can sleep on the balcony, there's sunbeds, if I take a blanket, I don't mind it-'

'No, no, I'm not going to make you sleep outside, godammit.' He squeezed his eyes shut.

'Ookay. So we're going to share?' Grantaire's voice sounded odd, higher than normal. Enjolras just dived right in.

'Rule number one: You keep to your side of the bed and only your side. Rule number two: Do not steal blankets. Rule number three: If you snore I will not hesitate to push you onto the floor.'

'Got it. So I'll just lie there as still as possible and I'll try not to breathe too loudly.'

Enjolras sank down on the bed, which was very comfortable, he might add, ignoring his comment.

'Look, I'm just as annoyed as you are,' Enjolras met Grantaire's eyes finally. 'Just..we're only here for seven nights, so we'll have to grit out teeth and bare it.' His voice was still a little strangled but Enjolras paid no heed to it.

'I suppose your right. When are you going to unpack?' He asked, flopping backwards on the bed. When he didn't get an answer, he looked up and saw Grantaire with a steadily growing grin.

'What?'

'I do believe that is the first time you've ever agreed with me.'

After a moment, he smiled too, and maybe, a small part of him thought, it wouldn't be too bad a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry if there are mistakes, I don't have a beta and I wrote two chapters in one day because im really motivated, but thank you guys already for reading it)
> 
> ((alternate chapter title: return of the brackets))


	3. Poolside

While Grantaire unpacked, Enjolras stood on the balcony, resting his chin in his hands and looking at the view. He could feel himself relaxing, unraveling, just watching the lazy roll of waves. There was a pool, directly below the balconies, with sun beds dotted around, and a few steps lead down to the beach which was like something out of a dream, with miles of clear sand and a calm sea. He would applaud Courfeyrac's hotel choice if it weren't for the obvious mishap.

Suddenly movement caught his eye and he looked down to see three people running towards the pool. Courfeyrac, Jehan and Bahorel leapt in, spraying water all around, and then Joly came running out after them, half hidden under a mountain of towels and sun lotion. Enjolras could practically hear him grumbling about skin cancer from where he was. Sighing almost fondly, he returned to the room and unpacked quickly. Grantaire was no where to be seen, so he stepped out of his clothes and changed into his swimming trunks, dark red, and put a shirt on top for modesty. 

He grabbed his book, the room key, and shoved his sunglasses on his face, before heading out to join his friends. By the time he arrived they were all there, taking sun beds or in the pool already. They were the only people there, much to his surprise, but it was probably just as well that most of the other hotel inhabitants were on the beach. He took a sun bed between Combeferre and Jehan, and sat down with a sigh. The sun was beating down hot even though it was late afternoon, and he began the task of smothering himself in sun lotion, with Combeferre's help to do his back. 

When he was done he removed his shirt somewhat self consciously, and settled back with his book. He only managed to read half a page however, before he was distracted, and realised he probably wouldn't get much reading done at all this holiday. He didn't seem to mind. The main culprits were those in the pool, Bahorel, Courfeyrac, Eponine and Jehan, who appeared to be doing some sort of Jaws reenactment. 

They'd procured a lilo from god knows where, and the game involved one of them lying on it with a leg dangling off, while the others swam around with no degree of subtlety, and tried to drag them off the lilo. Which consisted mostly of shouting and swearing and splashing and in short, anyone who wasn't Bahorel would lose.

'Duh duh, duh duh, duh duhduhHDUHDUDUHHHHHH.' Courfeyrac was doing a surprisingly good impression of the music as he clung onto Jehan's leg and tried to pull him in, but Jehan was stronger than he looked and kicked his boyfriend off with no hint of mercy. Courfeyrac was undeterred though, and continued his wrestling match with Jehan's foot until he ended up climbing on the lilo with him and sitting on his legs smugly. 

Bossuet cheered but then they were both overturned by Bahorel who'd snuck underneath them and was waving the lilo in the air while Courfeyrac and Jehan spluttered to the surface. Eventually they all swam to the edge of the pool, breathless and gasping with laughter, and climbed out to lie down in the sun. Luckily Enjolras was wearing sunglasses so Courfeyrac’s ridiculous neon pink trunks didn’t blind him.

The rest of the day passed smoothly and as calmly as possible for them, the only mishap being Feuilly falling asleep in the sun and gaining an unfortunate v-neck tan which Bahorel found absolutely hilarious. Feuilly then pushed him, fully clothed, into the pool because it was his fault for not waking him. 

At six they all headed back to the rooms and showered off the chlorine and sun lotion. Enjolras got back first and took the bathroom before Grantaire, planning on an indulging shower. He had just stepped under the water when he heard Grantaire return.

'Grantaire,' He called, trying to make himself heard over the water, 'If you drip everywhere I'll kill you.'

'Yeah, yeah, I've got a towel,' There was a pause, 'Are you in the shower?'

'Yes. Why do you want one?' He let the water run over his face and sighed.

'Er, no, it's fine, I'll just... I can go and use Courfeyrac's.' The door banged shut leaving Enjolras confused. He shrugged. Maybe Grantaire just really wanted a shower. 

When he was done he dried off and tried to make his hair look relatively acceptable for dinner. Taking the opportunity of being alone, he dropped the towel on the floor and wandered back into the room to get clothes. 

Of all the things he was expecting, Grantaire rummaging through a draw was not one of them. Enjolras let out a very manly shriek and Grantaire's head whipped round before his eyes bugged out of his skull and Enjolras wanted the floor to swallow him up. There was a second where they both stared at each other, both frozen where they were, before Grantaire's hands flew to his eyes and Enjolras practically fell into the bathroom.

'I saw nothing.' Grantaire said weakly from the other room.

'I thought you were at Courfeyrac's!' He demanded.

'I forgot my clothes.'

'When did you come back?'

'Like, two minutes ago, I was quiet, I'm so, so sorry. I was not expecting you to be na-' He stopped and Enjolras heard his ragged intake of breath from behind the bathroom. 'Ok. Ok, I'm gonna leave now. My hands are still on my eye- ow. No, I'm fine it was just the bed ok I'm going now, ok goodbye.' He heard the door open and then close and Enjolras let out a shaky breath.

Ok. Day one and already a mortifying incident had occurred. /I swear/, he thought, /If Grantaire brings that up I will decapitate him/. Trying to put it all out of his mind, however difficult that may be, he headed back into the room with a towel this time and got dressed as hastily as possible. He hoped he hadn't scarred Grantaire or anything, but mostly he was just embarrassed. He knew he didn't have the best body, judging by Grantaire's reaction he was right, and the animosity between them didn't make it any easier. Maybe if they'd been close friends, like him and Combeferre, it wouldn't have been too bad. 

He was generally a private person anyway, and being seen naked by someone he didn't know overly well was somewhat humiliating. Thinking about it, he didn't really know anything about Grantaire. Sure, he was an art student, a heavy drinker and didn't seem to care for anything, but other than that he knew next to nothing. What were his parents like? What was his ambition with his life? Who were his best friends? Probably Feuilly and Courfeyrac. He didn't even know when his birthday was. He ran a hand through his damp hair and exhaled slowly.

By the time he was fully clothed once more, he decided to head down to dinner. Everyone was already there, including Grantaire who turned a rather impressive scarlet when he saw Enjolras, but said nothing. 

Much to his luck, the only free chair was next to Grantaire, so Enjolras sank into it and tried to shift as far away from him without looking rude. With everyone talking around them, Grantaire turned to say something but Enjolras interrupted him.

'It never happened.' He put as much menace into his voice as possible, and Grantaire paused before nodding. If Enjolras had looked more carefully he would've seen Grantaire's eyes drop to the table, and maybe he would have noticed the way his mouth fell, but he didn't see any of these things. 

By the time they had ordered he'd almost forgotten about the incident, and had thrown himself into the conversation as whole-heartedly as possible.

'-so I was hanging out the tree house, the cat was still up the tree and my trousers were round my ankles.' Courfeyrac finished and the table erupted into laughter, Marius laughing so hard he choked on his drink and fell off his chair. Enjolras had no idea what the context was, and didn't really want to know because knowing Courfeyrac; it was either rude or disgusting. Or both. He smiled anyway as everyone got their breath back.

'So Enjolras,' He looked up, 'How's your first day without work? Are you okay? Sure you're not gonna relapse and start handwriting an essay?' Feuilly grinned.

'I'll survive,' He said in a grudging tone, 'But don't let me have /too/ much fun.'   
Courfeyrac snorted.

'Don't worry, by the end of this week I will have gotten you drunk. Mark my words.'  
Enjolras made a mental note not to accept any drink from Courfeyrac.

'So has everyone unpacked?' Combeferre asked, always responsible, 'Is anything missing?' 

Heads were shaken, all except Bossuet who sighed.

'I think I forgot swimming trunks.' 

'Don't worry, my little bald eagle, you can borrow some of mine, I brought five pairs.' Courfeyrac offered and Enjolras didn't blame Bossuet when he looked alarmed.

'Er, thanks, but maybe I'll borrow someone else’s?'

'No, no don't worry, it's fine! I've got some orange ones you can wear.' Eventually Bossuet accepted, looking even more forlorn than before, and then the food was arriving.

It was delicious, and everyone wolfed it down, except Marius who was picky and convinced he was allergic to sea food until Cosette hid some in his beans and he didn't have an anaphylactic shock like he had been convinced would happen.  
Surprisingly, everyone was too full for dessert, and one by one they began drifting back to their rooms. Enjolras left with Jehan, said goodbye at the stairs, and turned to his and Grantaire's room.

\--

It was midnight when there was a knock on the door. Enjolras' eyes flew open and for a moment he was considerably confused. Until he saw Grantaire next to him, well, as far away from him as possible, and remembered where he was. The knock came again and he groaned.

'What?' He croaked at the stranger when he had gone to the door, who turned out to be Courfeyrac. 'Why the fuck are you waking me up?'

'We're going for a midnight swim!'

Enjolras stared at him like he was insane, but then he was being pushed out of the way and Courfeyrac was barging into the room.

'Aww you're sharing a bed.' 

Grantaire sat up like a bolt at the noise, and promptly fell off the bed. He moaned from the floor.

'Courfeyrac what the fuck are you doing?'

'We're going for a midnight swim! Come on!' He was grabbing Grantaire's foot and trying to drag him out the room when Enjolras stopped him.

'Are you even allowed? Isn't the pool shut?'

Courfeyrac snorted.

'Kind of. But Eponine has a balcony on the ground floor so we can get out there. Come on, don't be a spoil sport, it'll be great!'

'I'll come, on one term.' Grantaire said from the floor, and Courfeyrac whooped.

'You have to buy me drinks for the rest of the week.' 

'Deal.' 

Grantaire peeled himself off the floor, and went to get his things. Enjolras watched them in his zombie like state, still unsure to whether he was dreaming or not. When he realised Courfeyrac was staring at him with slightly manic eyes, he blinked at him.

'What?'

'Pleeassseeeee.' Courfeyrac then proceeded to attach himself to one of Enjolras' legs, refusing to let go unless Enjolras join them. By this point, he was sufficiently awake and taking a very deep breath, he finally agreed. He couldn't help but smile at Courfeyrac's face, and decided maybe it would be fun. 

\--

It wasn't fun. Well, it was kind of fun, if your idea of fun was swimming in the dark in a freezing cold pool. No one could see each other and there were multiple crashes and cries of pain followed by shushing, given that they weren't actually allowed out. They could only see Courfeyrac because of his glow in the dark green trunks, which looked like they were floating through the pool.

Enjolras was standing in the shallows with his hands under his arms to try and conserve heat, and thoroughly regretting his decision. When Combeferre collided with him, he was somehow roped into, what Courfeyrac called, 'Game of Shoulders', where someone sat on someone else's shoulders, and had to battle another couple until they fell down. 

The winning team were Bahorel and Feuilly, Feuilly on top, and mainly because Bahorel was cheating and kicking people in the shins under the water. Soon enough Enjolras was on Combeferre's shoulders, grinning and trying to shove Eponine off Marius' shoulders. He won, and she toppled back with a curse, leaving him cheering. Suddenly he felt hands on his arms and was being pulled off Combeferre and under the water. He came up spluttering to see who his assailant was. It was Courfeyrac on Jehan's shoulders and Enjolras responded by grabbing Courfeyrac round the middle and dragging him down with a laugh.

By the end of the game the tables had turned, and the winners were Marius and Cosette, who was ruthless on his shoulders. They were all breathless and laughing again as they pulled themselves out of the pool with wrinkled fingers. He was climbing up the ladder when his hand slipped and he almost fell back and brained himself on the corner of the pool but suddenly there were hands on his back, pushing him forward until he'd regained balance. He turned to see Grantaire smiling unsurely.

'Oh, er, thanks.' He mumbled and climbed out as fast as possible. His back was cold where Grantaire's hands had been. He got back to the room with burning cheeks, and changed quickly, and when Grantaire arrived he didn't meet his eyes. When he climbed in bed, Enjolras feigned sleep until the lights shut off, and Grantaire reassumed his position on the edge of the bed.

But he was beside him, and Enjolras could hear every breath and feel every movement of the bed, so he lay there in the dark until his eyes fell shut out of sheer exhaustion, and he fell asleep thinking of nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry i really dont know what happened here, i thought it would be funny??????


	4. The morning crew

Enjolras woke up feeling cold, achy and not rested at all. The coldness was put down to the lack of blankets on his side, the aching presumably from the midnight swim and the tiredness from a restless night. He caught sight of Grantaire, who was on the balcony smoking at the ungodly hour of six am. Closing his eyes, he went back to sleep.

When he woke again, it was seven, an acceptable hour to be awake even though he felt like a corpse. After dragging himself out of bed he checked the room was empty thoroughly, before dressing swiftly and trying to sort out his bird nest hair. The sun was glinting in the sky and the air was cool when he went onto the balcony. It was peaceful, and he leant against the balustrade for a while, watching and thinking.

Movement caught his eye, and he looked down to see someone swimming lengths in the pool. Grantaire. Enjolras yawned and glanced at his watch, figured he had nothing to do until everyone else woke up which wouldn't be for a good few hours, so he headed down to the pool. 

He was half debating whether this was a good idea as he walked out into the sun, already warm, but fought the urge. Grantaire was his friend. Kind of. He was allowed to go and talk to him if he wanted to. Trying to look as casual as possible, he went and sat down on a sunbed next to the one with Grantaire's things on, and watched the black mess of curls bob through the water for a minute.

When Grantaire turned to swim back the length he saw Enjolras, swore audibly and inhaled a large amount of water. Then he started coughing which probably wasn't very easy given that he was out of his depth and his arms were flailing madly and Enjolras was frozen in place because Grantaire was drowning a little. Or a lot.

And then he was moving, hurling himself into the pool, not caring about his clothes or about anything other than the fact that he could not let Grantaire die in a pool. He swam, suddenly grateful for his lessons as a kid, powering through the water to Grantaire who didn't seem to be drowning much anymore, but Enjolras didn't think about that, only that he couldn't stop now. 

He kept going until Grantaire was in arms reach, grabbed his arm and dragged him to the side. Grantaire was heavy and wasn't being much of a help and when they finally reached safety they were both wheezing and gasping like fish out of water. When Grantaire got his breath back he coughed once, before choking out,

'Why... did you... do that, I... was fine,' He took a huge breath and his grip on the side tightened. 'You could've drowned.' 

Enjolras stared at him incredulously.

'I was the one saving you from drowning, you cretin,' He spluttered, 'A thank you would be nice.'

'Oh, thank you, my glorious saviour and valiant knight, how can I ever repay you?' Grantaire deadpanned, and shook his head, shaking water over them both, not that it really mattered. 

There was a pause where they both looked at each other, chests heaving, before something seemed to grasp them both and they burst out laughing, grins plastered on their faces.

'Thank you, though. It's the thought that matters.' Grantaire smirked, and Enjolras kicked his shin under the water. 

Eventually they dragged themselves out and went to change out of their sopping clothes, and Enjolras wondered if Grantaire could feel the air between them tingling somehow.

\--

The sun was hotter than ever, or so it felt, and everyone had been forced out of bed and given breakfast. Courfeyrac had dubbed Enjolras and Grantaire 'The Morning Crew' after they had physically lifted him from his bed at half past eleven and thrust coffee into his hands.

But it was just after lunch and everyone was relaxed and calm by the pool. Courfeyrac and Jehan were curled up on a sunbed, murmuring to each other and tracing patterns in each others warm skin. 

Bahorel and Feuilly seemed engrossed in an intense game of chess that Combeferre had brought with him. By the looks of it, Feuilly was winning, and Bahorel was staring at the board with steepled fingers while Feuilly smirked. Enjolras hoped that by the end of the day the chess set didn't end up in the pool, for Combeferre's sake.

Combeferre, who was handing an ice cream to Eponine a few sun beds down, before taking the seat next to her. Enjolras raised an eyebrow but did nothing. Something was evidently going on between them, and Enjolras wasn't above a little sneaking about.

Marius was reclining on the lilo while Cosette swam in the shallows, occasionally swimming up to kiss him. As Enjolras watched, Marius leant down to try and kiss her but she moved away and he toppled off with as much grace as a drunk penguin and an hilarious squeal as he hit the water. Enjolras snorted when he came up bright red, looking around furtively to see who had noticed while Cosette laughed behind her hands.

Joly and Bossuet had gone on a walk to see the town earlier, and Grantaire was beside him. He was shaken out of his musings when Grantaire picked up the book beside him.

'The Great Gatsby. Huh.'

Enjolras looked up.

'Have you read it?'

'I skimmed,' Grantaire turned the book over to look at the back, 'Didn't really get it.' He said absently.

'How can you not get the Great Gatsby?' Enjolras asked, sitting up a little straighter.

'Well, everyone's always banging on about how the deep underlying themes are meant to symbolise the American dreams blah blah blah. Well, maybe that's not what Fitzgerald was getting at. Maybe he just wanted Gatsby to have a good time, right?' 

'If your idea of a good time is dying in a pool.'

'But that's a whole other argument.' Grantaire countered, 'How does it symbolise the American dream if he dies? He didn't even get the girl in the end! Sure, he had some pretty epic sounding parties, but is the dream really so shallow as to only encompass money and parties? I just read it as any normal book, I don't think it represented some deep ethical meaning.'

There was a pause while Enjolras processed that information.

'You don't believe in anything, do you?' He said.

Grantaire had't met his eyes the entire time, and he stared intensely at the book clasped between his hands.

'Yeah, well, I guess I believe in you.' He said it so quietly Enjolras only just caught it, and then startled blue eyes met brown and for a moment they were both frozen. Enjolras' mouth opened and closed again, slightly lost for words. Grantaire seemed to notice.

'It seems I've rendered the might Apollo speechless.' His laughter was hollow. They both started, jumped almost, when Combeferre appeared, shattering the atmosphere between them.

'We're going down for a walk on the beach, do you wanna come?' He frowned when he saw Enjolras' face, a question on his own.

'Yeah, sure.' He said a little too hastily, and got up.

'Grantaire?' Combeferre asked. He had moved between them, barely noticeable, but Enjolras saw and wondered if Combeferre had overheard their conversation.

'Er, no, I think I'll just stay here.' Grantaire cast an almost helpless glance at Enjolras who resolutely didn't meet his gaze. Combeferre put a hand on his shoulder.

'Lets go.' Enjolras nodded and let Combeferre steer him away gently, without a backwards glance to Grantaire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ok i havent read gatsby, so what ive said about it is all information from my friends)  
> ((i have no idea where this fic is going))  
> (((but thanks for reading you guys, youre awesome!)))


	5. Liqour is quicker

Enjolras didn't speak to Grantaire for the rest of that day, mainly because he couldn't. Every look darted his way sent a creeping blush up his neck with the words 'I believe in you' ringing in his head. Maybe Grantaire knew what he was doing to Enjolras, maybe he thought Enjolras hated him, but whatever he was feeling towards Grantaire at the moment was unknown. It felt like a mixture between disgust and that fluttery feeling he got in his stomach right before he did a speech. But he decided to take the safest course of action and ignore it until it went away. Which meant ignoring Grantaire. Which was generally pretty difficult given that they shared a room.

It was the next morning when he woke up in their shared bed, warm and content. His eyes flickered open and he was hit with full force the acknowledgement of Grantaire. His streak of ignoring was most definitely over because they were spooning. The first thing he thought was that Grantaire hadn't kept his promise of keeping to his side. He quickly forgot that when Grantaire shifted and Enjolras had to bite back a squeak that threatened to escape his throat at the feeling of Grantaire pressed against his crotch. 

Enjolras was no blushing maiden when it came to sex, but spooning his so far platonic friend, with an erection, was probably a bit much. His only choice of option was to wriggle out as smoothly as possible, take care of the situation and escape. Putting plan one into action, he started by unwrapping his hands from around Grantaire's chest, wincing when he shifted again. But he stayed asleep and Enjolras managed to pry his hands free. His legs were a different matter. Somehow they had ended up entwined together and he had no idea where Grantaire's knee ended and Enjolras' shin begun. Gingerly, he twisted and turned this way and that, holding his breath and freezing whenever Grantaire so much as breathed deeply. When he was free of the octopus like hold he had had, he disentangled himself from the bedsheets and crept to the bathroom with the elements of both speed and silence. 

Once there, he quietly congratulated himself of his improvised escapist act, before stripping down and hopping in the shower. The water was a blessed relief and he basked for a few moments, letting his hair drip into his face. His hand drifted down and he gripped himself, his breath catching slightly, and his eyes fell shut as he picked up a steady pace. When he felt himself getting close he bit his lip hard, only just stifling a groan as he came. Quickly, he washed and got out, feeling more relaxed than ever. However, he cursed himself when he realised he had forgotten to bring clothes, and was forced to step back into his boxers and nothing else. 

With no other choice, he tiptoed back into the room, praying Grantaire was still asleep, and slid open the drawer. He tugged on some knee length shorts and was about to pull his shirt on when he heard the sheets rustle.

'Morning.' Grantaire said from the bed and Enjolras swallowed and gripped the shirt tighter.

'Morning.' His voice didn't sound like his own, strangled and high, and he turned away so Grantaire didn't see his flushed cheeks.

'You okay?' Grantaire said, his own voice rough from sleep. Enjolras nodded as he did up the buttons with /completely/ steady hands, unable to get the image of Grantaire sleep tousled and slightly confused out of his head. He watched out the corner of his eye as Grantaire crawled out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Fully dressed, he snagged the keys from the dresser and headed down to breakfast, trying to force any thought of Grantaire out of his head.

\--

Enjolras was drunk. More drunk than he had ever been in his life which wasn't really saying anything, but to him it was strange. His head felt light but his tongue felt too big for his mouth and he kept stumbling. Other than those two minor issues, he was having an okay time. He even found himself smiling, much to his friends surprise. They were at the beach bar and it was the late evening, the music was good and there were bodies everywhere, in the sea as well as crowding around the bar. Enjolras grinned to himself as he grabbed another drink. He didn't even know what it was but he drank it anyway. He was suddenly grasped by the idea that talking to Courfeyrac would be the best course of action.

He sought him out by the bar where he was whispering in Jehan's ear, one hand in his hair the other holding a drink. Struck by the boldness of drink he poked Courfeyrac in the shoulder and beamed at him.

'You're drunk.' Courfeyrac announced but he looked ecstatic. Jehan didn't seem to mind when Enjolras pulled his boyfriend away, just ordered another drink, swaying slightly where he sat.

When Enjolras found a suitable piece of sand he sat down and motioned Courfeyrac to do the same.

'Is there a specific reason you want to talk to me or are you finally taking up on that make out offer, because I talked to Jehan and he says he's all for it but only if he can join the sexy times that will most definitely ensue.'

Even Enjolras wasn't that drunk and pulled a face which made Courfeyrac laugh.

'I need to talk to you,' Enjolras said, 'About a very serious matter.' He looked Courfeyrac deeply in the eyes, and hiccupped. 

'What is it?' Courfeyrac crossed his legs, decidedly less drunk than Enjolras, or maybe he was just better at holding his liquor. Enjolras didn't feel like he'd had that much to drink, but he remembered it burning his throat at the beginning so it was probably strong. 

'It's a bit of a secret,' Enjolras explained and beckoned Courfeyrac closer. 'No, closer,' He protested and pulled Courfeyrac's ear to his mouth, 'You know Grantaire?' Courfeyrac nodded and Enjolras felt his hair tickle his chin, 'I think he is very attractive-' He was cut off by another hiccup and pulled away from Courfeyrac feeling pleased. Finally, he'd said it out loud. Courfeyrac was wide eyed.

'You think R's attractive?' He clarified, and Enjolras snorted. As if something like that needed clarifying. Enjolras vaguely wondered where he was. 'Is there anything else?' Courfeyrac prompted and he looked like he'd just found gold.

Enjolras thought for a moment, before nodding.

'This is an even bigger secret,' He whispered, and pulled Courfeyrac close again, ignoring his eye roll. 'I'm in love with Grantaire.' He leant back and burst into giggles, making nothing of the shocked look on Courfeyrac's face. He didn't even notice when Combeferre put an arm round him (minutes? hours?) later, and took him to bed with a glass of water and a worried look at Courfeyrac. The last thing he registered before he passed out was the empty space beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont even know whats happening anymore ??//?? but slightly pining enjolras?/???


	6. Oh, the sea

The day immediately after passed in a haze of pounding headaches, staying in the shade and multiple bottles of water. Not to mention the added tension that had sprung up after Combeferre had quietly confided in him his conversations of the previous night. He remembered bits, remembered sitting on the beach with Courfeyrac and then giggling a lot but everything was fuzzy. He spent the day treading on eggshells around Grantaire but it appeared he didn't know what had been said thankfully. Enjolras supposed that was a good thing but he was getting wiggled eyebrows from Courfeyrac nearly every second.

He was sitting under an umbrella with sunglasses and a hat, trying to ignore the throbbing in his skull when Courfeyrac strode towards the pool and everyone stopped moving. There was deadly silence as everyone gaped at him, more specifically, at his bright orange, possibly fluorescent speedoes. Speedoes that were so tight Enjolras could see much more of Courfeyrac than he would ever in his life want to see. His friends were in various states of shock, ranging from Bahorel who looked faintly sick, to Jehan who was choking on pool water. Joly slapped him on the back as Courfeyrac stood on the edge of the pool.

'Lovely day.' He announced, hands on his hips. Enjolras felt violated. 

'Courfeyrac.' Marius spluttered from somewhere but stopped, turning bright red and looking away.

'Yes, my fine feathered friend, is something wrong?' His shit eating grin proved he knew exactly what was going on. 

'What are you wearing?' Managed Eponine. 'Or should I say, not wearing.'

'This little thing?' Courfeyrac said, snapping the waistband and making everyone wince, except Jehan who doubled over again, 'Just something I slipped on this morning.' 

Enjolras couldn't look anymore. The neon trunks were bad enough but speedoes were taking it too far. They looked like they'd been painted on. 

It was alright when Courfeyrac was underwater, and for a while it was forgotten. Until he got out, and the water had made them _cling_ to places no one wanted to see, and finally Cosette, rather forcefully, asked him to change in order to protect everyones eyes. 

There was a shit storm the next morning when Courfeyrac discovered his precious speedoes were missing.

'But where could the be?!' He cried to Enjolras at an ungodly hour in the morning. Someone managed to convince him they'd been lost in the laundry, such an unfortunate event that may be, but Combeferre's raised eyebrow suggested otherwise.

'What did you do with them?' Enjolras asked quietly when they were out of earshot. Combeferre smirked.

'Lets just say he won't be finding them anytime soon.' It was Enjolras' turn to raise an eyebrow, so Combeferre told him he'd hidden them in a palm tree along the beach, but refused to tell him which one.

\--

It was the next day that they finally decided to venture to the beach. With bags of stuff that probably wasn't at all necessary, although Joly insisted they bring his Monopoly set, they strolled down and set up base camp with a few towels and bags. Almost immediately Jehan and Courfeyrac were off to dig a hole god knows where, Marius and Cosette lay down to sunbathe although by then Marius looked like one big freckle. The others disappeared to swim or buy ice cream and Enjolras was left on his towel with Grantaire a few to his left. Even Combeferre had ditched them over ice cream, though Enjolras suspected it was more because Eponine was going.

Eventually they all returned to the camp in dribs and drabs, and the majority of his friends were dozing in the sun. He'd decided he liked the beach until the sand started sticking to his hot skin and he was so uncomfortable and itchy that he put his book down with a huff. The sea suddenly looked very inviting. Tugging his shirt over his head he stood up and wandered over to the shallows and dipped a toe in. It was a nice temperature against his overheated skin and soon he was up to his knees. He stood there for a minute, splashing his hands in the water when he heard a laugh behind him.

'What are you doing?' Grantaire's voice drifted over and he looked over his shoulder.

'Swimming.'

'That's not swimming, that's standing in the shallows like a geriatric. _This_ is swimming.' With an almighty splash Grantaire dove underwater, disappearing from view until he caught sight of his dark figure a few feet ahead of him. He came up through a wave, shaking his head and spraying water all over Enjolras. He raised his arms in a protective stance which only made Grantaire laugh more.

'Come on, Apollo.' He teased, lying back in the water. Huffing again, Enjolras waded forwards a few more steps, took a deep breath and forced himself underwater. It was cold with his head under and he sprang back up straight away, frowning at Grantaire. 

'Happy?' He said, plastering his hair of his face.

'Very.' And then Grantaire was gone again. Enjolras was scanning the water for him when he felt hands on his ankle and toppled over backwards, flailing as he fell under. He came up rubbing at his eyes to try and rid them of salt water and saw Grantaire was looking at him worriedly.

'I'm sorry I didn't mean to hur-' Enjolras grabbed him round the middle and they both went down. 

'You cheater!' Grantaire gasped, pointing an accusatory finger at him while Enjolras laughed. 

Enjolras didn't know how or why, but a degree of easy camaraderie had started between them, and the next twenty minutes they spent swimming around and laughing. It was possibly the best time he'd spent with Grantaire on the holiday, and he was enjoying every minute of it. Grantaire was funny. He had the right timing for jokes and his sarcasm was just the right side of dry wit. Their fingers were wrinkled like prunes and Enjolras was about to suggest a race when he heard a shout from the beach.

'Enjolras,' It was Courfeyrac and he looked ridiculously smug as he watched them. 'We're going to head back now. You guys stay if you want.' He winked with absolutely no subtlety and made a show of leaving with everyone, turning once more to give Enjolras a thumbs up, to which he responded with another finger. Thankfully, Grantaire didn't seem to have noticed.

'Maybe we should go back too. I want a shower before dinner.' Grantaire said, and Enjolras swallowed any disappointment he might feel.

'Yeah, good idea.' 

They were pretty far out, so dove simultaneously, swimming smoothly until they needed breath. When he came up Grantaire was already standing there, watching Enjolras brush his hair out his eyes with a strange expression. Enjolras frowned at him before Grantaire's features broke into a smile, and he couldn't suppress the sigh that fought its way out of his chest.

'Your hair makes you look like a sea witch, you know.' Grantaire said.

'You don't look much better yourself.' He retorted, reaching forward without thinking to demonstrate by pulling the tangled mass into Grantaire's view. Grantaire laughed and batted his hand away before putting his hands on Enjolras' shoulders and pulling him close. Enjolras stopped breathing.

Their foreheads were together and Grantaire was still smiling, staring into Enjolras' eyes as if it was a staring competition, seemingly unaware of the fact that a hummingbird was in Enjolras' heart. And then his eyes closed and Enjolras was so blissfully caught up in the sight of his dark lashes against his cheeks that he barely noticed the shift until Grantaire's lips were on his and his brain short circuited.

Not for long though, and his hands found their way to Grantaire's shoulders and the kiss was altogether perfect, salty and warm and Grantaire smelt like the sun and tasted like the sea and Enjolras just wanted to stay there forever, to live in that singular moment where everything felt right.

At some point they came apart at the lips, but pressed together wherever else possible.

'Never would've thought.' Grantaire sighed against him and Enjolras felt the breath on his own lips.

'Hmm?' 

'That I'd kiss you.'

'Why's that?' Enjolras' eyes flickered open and Grantaire was watching him. 

'Because I'm me and you're...you.' His eyes were green and gold and blue.

'Exactly.' He murmured.

'Maybe the stars had it out for us.' 

Enjolras wasn't a huge believer of fate but he was too busy counting the freckles on Grantaire's cheeks (seventeen) to argue.

'Maybe they did.' He said, finding constellations in his freckles and galaxies in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (they kissed ohyeah get it E)  
> ((b a b i e s))


End file.
